


Your Cool Lips

by Bernice (iibnf)



Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate: Atlantis
Genre: Angst, Hallucinations, M/M, Smut, first-time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-05
Updated: 2011-12-05
Packaged: 2017-10-26 22:47:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/288728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iibnf/pseuds/Bernice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story is a continuation of events from the episode Grace Under Pressure,where Rodney hallucinates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The first night after Colonel Sheppard and Zelenka brought Rodney up from the bottom of the ocean, Rodney was so cold he didn't care that Beckett was doing horribly embarrassing things with tubes and warmed water, and he was so glad to be on the surface, he didn't care when his parents came to visit once the infirmary was quiet, faces stern and disapproving – although he was sure they were glad he was alive, or when his old college room mate turned up in the quiet hours of the morning to tell him how being a police detective was working out (well, apparently), and he was quite pleased to see his old piano teacher so he could scream at him: "Ha! No art? I'm the greatest scientist that's ever lived! That's art! That's art, you fool!"

At some point someone came in and added a sedative to his IV and he didn't get any more visitors that night.

 

-oo0oo-

The second afternoon on the surface his headache was still there, but fading, and he was making friends with lucidity again. So he was extremely surprised when his sister came to visit, putting a small bunch of white daisies by his bed.

"Idiot," she said fondly. "What have you done to yourself this time?"

"I am not an idiot, and this is the first time we've seen each other in years, can't you even say hello before you start with the insults? And how did you get to Atlantis anyway? And why? Oh, my god, I'm dying, they've brought you here as next of kin. I'm so screwed!"

"You're not dying, you wimp," Jeanie put her hand over his mouth to stop his babble. "You're fine. You just need to get Becket to give you another Tylenol for your headache."

"So how did you get here?"

"I didn't, fool!" she snapped, rolling her eyes. "Obviously, I am not really here."

"You're not… you're… oh, oh, you're one of those." Rodney said, sinking lower into the bed to ease away from her.

"Yes. A bit slow on the uptake there, Rodney. So much for being a genius."

"Well, I didn't expect… I thought it would stop when I reached the surface. Obviously Carson is just not up to the task of repairing the apparently grievous head wound I've suffered if I'm still hallucinating."

"He's fine. He's doing the best he can. Just give it time."

"Time? You don’t know! What do you know? You're just a hallucination. And why do all of my hallucinations insult me?"

The door opened and Colonel Sheppard walked in waving to Rodney as he went past, but going straight over to Carson's office.

Jeanie stood. "Time I left; you've real people company now. Look after yourself, Rodney." She leaned over and kissed the uninjured side of his forehead with cool lips, checking out Sheppard rather obviously as she walked through the door. Typical, Rodney thought, that even his sister would be find him appealing. It was probably in the McKay genes to be hopelessly attracted to the Colonel.

"Carson says you'll be released tomorrow," Sheppard said, snagging a chair and dragging it to Rodney's bed.

"Well, good." Rodney wondered if Carson would release him so quickly if he knew that Rodney was obviously completely and utterly insane. How could Rodney say: I'm not just hearing voices, I'm seeing faces, and feeling entire people! without getting himself confined to the infirmary permanently?

"Are you sure you're okay? You look really pale."

"Yes, yes," the last thing Rodney wanted was to admit weakness. "Did you bring me a present?"

Sheppard rolled his eyes, awkwardly reminding Rodney of his sister, and threw a couple of candy bars on the bed. "Here."

 

-oo0oo-

The day he returned to work Rodney abandoned the notes Zelenka had left regarding turning the jumper cloak into a shield. It was the kind of thing Rodney could work out in his sleep, and since Zelenka hadn't typed it up into a real report and had written it mostly in Czech, Rodney wasn't that interested in working on it just yet. Not while he still had a lingering headache anyway.

Beckett said the headache would fade soon, and had tried to pull Rodney off duty until it did. Rodney, on the other hand, felt he was perfectly capable of working, as long as people were perfectly prepared to listen to him whine about it. So far, just about everyone was. He'd given them all a major scare, although not as much as he'd given himself, and they'd all been happy enough to listen to him regale them with stories of his bravery and ingenious plans to escape. And most importantly they'd just sat with him, Teyla and Sheppard and the rest, taking the time to visit and talk, or just listen to him talk, and once the visits had thinned out he'd whined at Becket to discharge him so he could return to his lab, the hub of the busy busy of Atlantis. Surrounded by people and sound, and well above the ocean. High and dry.

Now he was alone again, and it was a nuisance; he really could use another pair of hands. All the tiny fibres he was trying to put back together needed smaller hands than his own, and the work would go more quickly. Not that he needed anyone else, but it would be useful. Tiny keyboards, tiny fibres, sure, they were space saving, but they were not user friendly.

"Here, pass to me," Zelenka leaned over and Rodney looked up in surprise before passing some of the torn and twisted pieces over.

"I thought you were in the mess?" Zelenka had been avoiding him a little since Rodney's unexpected dunking, although Rodney was definitely not pointing out how the whole thing had been Zelenka's fault in the first place. He was making some effort to trust the others, to honour the memory of the woman he'd left at the bottom of the ocean. Even if she'd just been a product of his concussion.

"Yes, yes, but the food was, er, banos, crap. You missed nothing. So I came back. Pass to me, you can't do this by yourself, let me help."

"I don't need your help," Rodney grumbled. "I can do this perfectly well by myself… but if you have nothing better to do…"

"No, no," Zelenka gave him a twisted look. "Of course you need no one, but it's easier, yes?"

They made juvenile faces at each other and worked quietly for a while, until Rodney felt the need to point out that Zelenka wasn't making much progress and what was the point of him being there if he was only going to distract Rodney from what he had to do anyway, when the door behind them opened and Rodney turned to see Radak Zelenka walk into the room.

"Zelenka, what are you…" he turned, but the man who'd been working beside him was gone, the fibres he'd been working on abandoned. It was obvious now that no work had been done on them at all.

"What am I what, Rodney?" Zelenka queried.

"I feel dizzy," McKay wasn't quite lying. "I think I should go see Carson again. I can't shake this headache. I'm probably bleeding into my brain. I'm sure I need another MRI!"

 

-oo0oo-

During his second stay in the infirmary, a weight landing on his feet woke Rodney up, startling him into nearly falling off the narrow infirmary bed, "What the hell… Griffin?"

"Hey, McKay, glad to see you made it."

"You're dead."

"I know. I was there."

"You're another one of those, aren't you?"

"Hallucinations?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah." Griffin nodded thoughtfully. "Hey, I brought you a gift."

Rodney reached out his hand and stared at the fat, red tomato that Griffin carefully placed there. He closed his hand around it, careful not to squeeze the soft delicate flesh too firmly.

"Do you want some salt with that?"

"The dead bring their own salt?"

"Sure. Actually… no, I forgot that. But still, it's delicious, you should eat it." Griffin took a large bite out of another tomato, and the juices dripped down his chin. "You know, these things were always my favourite food."

"So," Rodney took a bite out of the tomato, it was delicious, and it had been a long time since he'd had a fresh tomato. "Are you … like… ghost of sinkings past, or something?"

"Nope. Just a hallucination."

"Oh. Yeah, but I mean, are you here to… to… put my doubts to rest or something? I mean, why would I conjure you of all people? I don't need you right now, do I? I only seem to conjure up people I need, when I need them. But right now, I'm trying to sleep. I don't need you now. I mean... I'm sorry you died to save me. Why did you do that? That was really brave."

"Not really, I was going to die anyway. This way, at least I died a hero, right?"

"Yeah, a hero, sure. I, uh, I didn't think to, you know, do that. Just go in and close the door. I should have."

"No, you shouldn't. I'm not going to say that you needed to live because you're more important than me, because you know that would just be yourself talking, but face it; you're just not trained to think like that."

"I'm the best thinker in this galaxy!" Rodney snapped.

"You're not trained to give up your life for others."

"Well, true. But I'm sorry you died anyway."

"If I hadn't done what I did, if you'd gone through and pulled the door shut instead, then I would have died. I couldn't have kept myself alive long enough for rescue like you did. If neither of us had gone through, we'd both have died. So my choice was the only rational one."

"Yes, I suppose," Rodney licked the tomato juice off his fingers and chin. "Doesn't mean I'm not going to have nightmares about this for ages."

"Who are you talking to?" Carson questioned as he came into the room, and in the second it took Rodney to turn towards him, Griffin had ducked under the bed and vanished. "And where did you get a tomato?"

"I, er, found it. Can I go now? I'm fine, the headaches are almost gone."

"I don't think you should be going back to work until we find out what's going on-"

"Well, there's no reason I should stay here, though, is there? I'm not in any danger, I'm not a danger to anyone else, so I can go back to my own quarters. I can do nothing there as well as I do here, and I can always let you know if there are any more of these… manifestations."

"I'm surprised you're not demanding more tests, Rodney. You're usually the careful one. We should probably keep you here-"

"Not tonight. I'm sure all I need is a good night's sleep on a decent mattress," Rodney lied.

"No, tomorrow will do, but if it doesn't get better, you come right back here."

"Will do, Carson," and Rodney took off quickly, sucking tomato seeds from his teeth.

 

-oo0oo-

The first night that Rodney spent alone in his room since the hallucinations had started he sat on the edge of his bed and stared out of his window, watching the gentle roll of waves against the edge of his city.

There were so many things he could probably do with this new ability, freaky as it was. Maybe it was one of the steps to ascension. If anyone was mentally advanced enough on Atlantis to ascend like the ancients, it would be him, he thought. As long as he wasn't worrying for his mental health, and this didn't apparently affect his sanity, he could, if he could master it, use these hallucinations for camouflage, cover, company, and comfort. He could use them to confuse enemies, which would be a great help against mind-twisting monsters like the Wraith.

He stood there and thought of hundreds of ways he could use this to benefit Atlantis, like hostage situations, or trying to make it appear there were more of them to an enemy, if only he could learn how to control them, make them appear when he wanted them to, not just when he was alone, not just when…

"…I'm lonely," he whispered out loud.

"Well, that's easily fixed," drawled Colonel Sheppard's familiar voice, full of amusement.

The bed dipped as the Colonel sat beside him, giving him a lopsided grin.

"Is the bed really dipping," Rodney asked, "or is it just my perception? How much impact do you have on your environment? The tomato Griffin gave me tasted real, and stayed even after I was too distracted to maintain the hallucination, but the Zelenka hallucination wasn't able to do any of the work he appeared to be doing. So I guess you can't really influence the environment, but I can touch and interact with you and any of your peripherals. If a tomato can be called a peripheral."

"Why are you asking me? You're the genius."

"Stop pretending to be stupid. Why do you do that, anyway?"

Sheppard shrugged, "I don't know."

"You don’t know… or you don't know because I don't know."

"You don't know, therefore I don't know. I can't be anything other than your perception of me, you know that. I can act like you'd think I'd act, but I'm not the real thing."

Rodney ran an arm up John's biceps, feeling the hard muscle, then across the narrow shoulders, "You feel real. Cold though. Sam was cold, too. Can you generate body heat?"

"Probably not. Who knows? Maybe if you practice some more? Put your mind to it, Rodney. You're always bragging about how brilliant you are, how hard could it be to make me feel warm?"

"Great, so you're going to be snappy even like this?"

"In your fantasy? Sure, why not? That's how you see me, and that's how you want me."

"I want you? Yes. Yes, right. Of course. Will you take your shirt off? Carter wouldn't, I couldn't get her to do anything, but…"

"Sure."

"Sure? You mean… sure?"

"Sure," John smirked and pulled off his black T-shirt, letting it fall on the floor.

"Carter wouldn't do… well… she did at one point, but…"

"But you know I’m probably easier than her. Or, at least, I haven't outright rejected you, yet."

"Easier, yes, yes. I've wondered. I mean, you seem pretty relaxed about things, not uptight, or anything, but I don't want to take the chance. I think, it'd be a good chance, you wouldn't totally freak out, we're friends and all and you probably wouldn't make my life hell over it, but it's too big a chance to take, if it did go wrong or even if it went right at first then things went bad, later, it's hell to work with an ex, you know, but yeah, I figured you'd be easer than Sam." Rodney leaned over to run his hand down Sheppard's chest, smoothing the soft black hair, letting his fingers dally on a tiny nipple. "Though usually with alien space bimbos."

"They weren't bimbos, Rodney," John said. "I only sleep with the best and brightest, you know that."

"Best and brightest, yes. Like me," Rodney tugged at John's belt, wondering if he had increased his control over the hallucinations to get further than he had with Samantha. "Will you get naked?"

John gave him a knowing sidewise grin, "Sure," and tugged off his boots, stood up and shimmied out of his pants. "Mind you, since you don't really know what I look like naked…"

"I can extrapolate; it doesn't take a genius to know you'd be… Oh…"

And the John Sheppard of Rodney's imagination was truly beautiful; he felt his mouth watering. "Truly beautiful."

"That's so lame."

"Hey, stop insulting me! You're supposed to be all fantasy made flesh here. No insults! Just stand there and be… Hey, you've got no ass!"

"Shut up, Rodney. I may not have much of an ass, but what I have is powerful enough to sit in a chair and shoot missiles into space, I'm sure that's enough for you!" John stepped closer and pushed hard at Rodney's shoulders, pushing him down flat on the bed before running his hands up under Rodney's shirt to tweak gently at his nipples, twisting just a little.

"Oh yeah, like that. Not too hard, make it sweet, like that. That's how I like it."

"I know," Sheppard grinned widely.

"I know you know! Do you like your nipples sucked? Are yours sensitive? Oh, why am I asking, how would you know?"

"They could be, if you wanted them to be. You know that, too."

"Oh yeah." Rodney grabbed John's head and pulled him down for kissing, revelling in the moist, soft lips, the cool mouth. "I gotta learn how to make you feel warm. Not that I'm complaining, mind-"

"That's a first."

"Your cool lips, they're kind of good. They feel good."

"They get you hot, anyway," John echoed Carter and resumed kissing him, just the way Rodney liked. Open mouthed, generous kisses, not too much tongue, not too much spit, but plenty of movement, lips soft, lips firm, and Rodney indulged himself in light kisses, and hard kisses, and traced the edges of Sheppard's pretty lips with the tip of his tongue, enjoying everything he'd imagined doing.

"You know, this is either the most pathetic masturbatory fantasy in this entire galaxy or really, really hot. I can do all the things I've thought of, when, you know. It's probably really disturbing… maybe I should talk to Heightmyer about this."

"Maybe you shouldn't; maybe you should stick with 'hot'."

Rodney leaned closer, burying his face in John's neck. "You don't smell."

"I should hope not!"

"I mean, you don't smell like John's dreadful after shave, or manly sweat, or… or anything, really. That's kind of a shame. I mean, not that I even like your aftershave, but even so… I just think it'd be nice if you smelled like him."

"Maybe you should get some Aqua Velva and spray it around next time."

"Next time? I mean, sure, why not? Why not a next time? We could do all the things I wouldn't dare do with the real you. We could do, just, you know, stuff. We could do stuff. You could be my secret lover and…"

"Secret lover? That's dreadful, Rodney. You sound like a bad seventies pop song."

"Hey, shut up! What did I tell you about insulting me?"

"All right, all right, Mister Sensitive. How about you take your clothes off? I shouldn't be the only naked one here."

"Why not? I conjured you for my own titillation, you should, do a dance or something. Entertain me."

"The only dance I know is the Robot. You really want me to do a naked Robot? You think that would excite you?" John said, standing with his arms crossed, completely comfortable with his nudity.

"Oddly enough, yes. Yes, it would."

"Well, I'm not going to do it. I might be imaginary, but I still have some pride. You take your clothes off."

"Okay, okay. You're not going to, you know…"

"I know what?"

"Make fun of me. When I’m naked. I mean, I'm a good looking man and all, but let's be honest, I'm not in your class, not when it comes to-"

"Take your shirt off, Rodney!" John snapped, obviously losing patience.

Rodney yanked his shirt off over his head and tossed it on the floor, "I don't know what I'm worried about anyway, it's not like you're real. You're just… a sex doll. Like an inflatable sex doll or, no, wait, like one of those Real Dolls you see on the Internet. Although those are seriously freaky…"

"Your seduction technique leaves a lot to be desired, McKay," John said, but he pushed McKay down on the bed and started to undo his fly, drawing down his pants and leaving him in his boxers.

"What? Those Real Dolls are expensive, thousands of dollars."

"Not helping. Not seduced. A little bit of advice: no one, imaginary or not, likes to be compared to a silicon sex doll."

"I'm just saying that you're quality. You're not real, but you're … if you were, uh, you'd be expensive? Oh, I don't know what I'm saying, I can't concentrate when you're doing that…" John had gone back to sucking on McKay's nipples, gently yet firmly, no teeth, his mouth was cool and wet and driving coherent thought away.

"Getting to yah, huh?" Sheppard looked up, letting go of McKay's nipple with a slurp.

"Oh yeah…" McKay reached down to touch the nipple, "It's wet…"

"Well, duh, McKay."

"I mean, you can't make body heat, but you can make spit. And hey, call me Rodney while we're doing it."

"Make me," Sheppard challenged, smirking.

McKay closed his eyes and thought hard at Sheppard…

"Nope, nothing. Definitely a limit to your power there, O All Omnipotent One."

"Hey, I'm still practicing, give me time. Why do you have to be so difficult, anyway?"

"Rodney-"

"Thank you."

"Rodney! I might be easy, but that doesn’t mean I'm … easy."

"Sadly, I know exactly what you mean. I think that it's my own subconscious; it doesn't want me getting any. That's probably why I always mess up every attempt to get close to someone; subconsciously I don't want to get laid. That's pathetic. If true. Do you think that's true?"

"How would I know? I'm not your psychiatrist!"

"You're a projection of my subconscious, if you don't put out, that means that I probably have something in my id that means I'm … afraid of sex or something? That doesn't sound right. Afraid of intimacy? I really need to talk this over with Heightmyer."

"Look at it this way, you take your shorts off right now, and if you get your cock sucked, then hey, you secretly subconsciously… want to get your cock sucked. How's that for psychiatry?"

"I, oh, you mean, oh, yes, okay," Rodney scrabbled to take his boxers off, clumsily falling back onto the bed. "You're going to, really?"

"Sure, why not," John said and took Rodney's cock in hand, bending over the bed to lick at the tip with a cold wet tongue.

"Oh, man, that's cold… no, don't stop, it's good. Cold, but good. I gotta find out how to make you warm, but that's okay, cold is okay, cold is nice, oh man, yeah, lick me, just behind the… yeah, that's the spot right there, lick that, oh that's good, yes, squeeze my balls, harder, yes, not that hard, ouch, careful, that's delicate, I might want to have children one day, wait… Why am I imagining you'd be so awkward? That doesn't make sense… Oh god, yes, suck me, suck… oh god you're good, you're so good, you're so good at that, oh I'm gonna… wait, wait, stop stop."

"Stop? Stop? You were just about to-"

"Yeah, I know, hang on," Rodney raised his hands to John, palm out, universal stop sigh. "Just let me catch my breath for a minute. I don't want this to end too soon. Do you have any idea how long it's been since someone went down on me?"

"At a guess?"

"Yes, yes, I know, you know exactly how long, so shut up, smart ass."

"You know, you shouldn't insult someone who's going down on you, McKay; keep in mind where my teeth are going to go in a minute."

"Yeah, um, talking of that… I want to do you."

"Me? You want to suck my cock?"

"Yes, it's something I've never done. Seems like it's something I should get some practice at, you know? Just in case, or … I'd just like to know what it feels like, anyway."

"Sure, why not. Just watch your teeth, okay? You can do whatever you want, just no teeth."

"What do you care, you're imaginary. I can't hurt you."

"Maybe not, but I can hurt you, so watch your teeth, Rodney!"

Rodney leaned forward and took John's cock in one hand and started to lick, just as John had done. There was no smell, none of the heady, musky scent Rodney would have associated with John and that was a little disappointing, but still there was the heavy, living weight of John's cock on his tongue, the pulse through the veins as he licked them, and a tiny burst of flavourless precome that he knew would have been just a little bitter had this John been the real one.

He took a couple of inches into his mouth, making sure his lips covered his teeth, and tried a little suction. "Hmmm?" he questioned.

"Mmm," John replied, arching his back a little, pushing his cock a little deeper into Rodney's mouth. Rodney felt John's hand rest on the back of his head, a little pat, not quite pushing. Rodney wouldn't like it if John pushed, and so John didn't, but it was a gentle encouragement anyway.

He went down a little more, wondering if he could deep throat John, but it jabbed at the back of his throat in a bad way and he started to gag.

"Woah, pull off, pull off… careful there, McKay. If you choke, you might bite."

Rodney snorted in amusement, "I can't believe I choked going down on imaginary dick!"

"Yeah, well, don't sweat it. Not everyone can take all of me at first go."

"Oh, Mister Ego! You're not that big! I'll have you know I pictured you as perfectly average. If I'm going to have first time gay sex, I don't want to get bludgeoned to death by some huge monster of a cock, so what you have, that's adequate."

"Adequate?" John raised an offended eyebrow. "It's not looking like you're going to get any tonight, McKay. I can leave, you know. I might be a figment of your imagination, but I can still just get up and leave any time I choose!"

"No, wait!" McKay grabbed him by the hips. "I'm sorry, you're huge. Enormous. I can't believe I have to work this hard when it's my own damned imagination. But you have truly brobdingnagian proportions! It's so big! How will it ever fit? If you make me beg I'm going to go drown myself in the shower I swear. I cower in terror before your enormous manhood!"

"Okay, that's enough. Jeez, McKay, you sure know how to kill the mood!"

"Look, okay, I'm sorry, how about, um, you go down on me again. That was good, wasn't it?"

"I suppose."

"Please? Come on, you know it's been a long time, it was really good. I'll keep my mouth shut, okay?"

"Yeah, right, you'd burst if you couldn't talk," said John, but he lowered his head and pushed Rodney’s thighs apart again, and started to bob his head, teeth carefully covered, taking Rodney's cock down like a pro.

"Oh, god, Colonel, were did you learn to, oh man, that's so good, I picture you, on the base on your knees, oh man… military men, I've heard you always swallow, is that true? Will you? Oh, god suck me, yes," Rodney babbled and twisted, trying to drive himself into John's cool mouth, wondering if the real John would be as experienced and enthusiastic as his own, as this John deep throated him with ease and expertise.

Rodney was close again, one hand tangled in John's hair, the other reaching up to grab his curtains, in danger of pulling them down from the wall, feeling his climax building up, when John pulled off, releasing the suction with a wet pop and grinning down at Rodney with an evil gleam in his eyes.

"Ah, why did you stop? You're going to kill me, aren't you? Oh god, it's me, I'm trying to commit suicide by blue balls, I'm going to die of gangrene of the nuts!"

"No, I'm just letting the tension build a bit, you'll have a better climax if I get you close a few times before I get you off."

"Oh yeah, that's right, I knew you'd be good at this. You have way too much experience. It's not fair, I have all the brains but everyone falls for the pretty boy, and yes, I know full well that applies to me too, so don't go looking at me like that, I know perfectly well that I'm a complete sucker for a pretty face. But oh yeah, I knew you'd be good."

"Yeah, you know I'd be a tease, too," John gazed at Rodney with a wicked smile. "I want to fuck you… Wait, I'll rephrase that. You want me to want to fuck you."

"No, not the first time, jeez, I don't know, I haven't done that, doesn't that hurt? I don't want you to hurt me."

"You won't get hurt. Guys have been doing this for… ever since the first guy discovered he had a prostate. Anyway, it's probably not even possible for me to hurt you if you don't want me to."

"No, I… I guess not. I mean, it's supposed to be good, right? I mean, guys wouldn't do it if it wasn't. You just, wait, there's lube here," Rodney rummaged in his bedside table, "You just go slow, okay? Be careful. I don't want to explain any damage to Carson. He probably already thinks I’m going crazy here. It's the pressure, I can't handle the stress."

"That's what I'm here for, then. To lower your… stress," John said, pushing one of Rodney's knees back towards his chest as he took a handful of the lube Rodney offered him. "Okay, relax, I'm just going to put some of this inside you. Just concentrate on breathing."

Rodney listened to the voice of his subconscious and watched the concentration on John's face as he slipped his cold finger inside. It didn't hurt but it didn't feel particularly good, either. Rodney wondered when the amazing feelings he'd read about would kick in.

"That just kind of feels… odd. Isn't it supposed to feel good? It feels… weird."

"But it doesn't hurt, does it?" John asked, slipping another finger in.

"Actually, that kind of burns. Move your, ow, not too fast, move your fingers a little. See if you can find my prostate, that's supposed to be the magic button. Not too hard! The membranes there are like wet tissue paper, you push too hard you'll rip me up inside. Are your fingernails short? I can't remember what they look like. Have you seen what peritonitis does to a person?"

"I guess I should add a third finger," John said, the tip of his pink tongue protruding a little, showing his concentration.

"No! You don't have to do that, you're not that big. Just, go slow, okay? Push in now."

"Okay, it's your ass," John said, frowning as he scooted forward, holding himself steady as he pushed into Rodney's body.

He managed to push himself in a couple of inches before Rodney protested, "Ow, stop! Stop! That's just… hang on, wait."

"Just breathe, Rodney, stop panicking. I'm not hurting you."

"That's okay for you to say, you're not the one with a log up your ass!" Rodney snapped.

"Hah, so I am big, then," John smirked.

"Well, it feels it right now, yes, don't gloat, it's not attractive. I've never even put a toy up there. I guess I should have, then I'd know what to expect, but I never wanted to go into a shop and buy one, I mean, how embarrassing! I don't want that being discussed when I get my Nobel Prize, 'Rodney McKay, Nobel Price winner in astrophysics, seen leaving sex shop with giant dildo', I'd die of embarrassment, and who has the time for elaborate masturbation fantasies, anyway?"

"You do, apparently. We've been at this for a while."

"Shut up. Wait. Okay, try again. That's it, just push forward a little. Just let me push down on it, isn't that supposed to help? Hey, start moving in and out a bit, yeah, wait, stop. Okay, now, gently. Gently!"

"You okay?"

"Yes, I think so. I'm not seeing stars here, or fireworks, I have to tell you this is a bit of a disappointment. It just feels like… It's weird, that's all."

"Maybe the real me would do better."

"Shut up. The real you is a hundred percent straight, for all I know."

"Really? And yet you can imagine perfectly well that I give blow jobs to all the other military men, and, as you said, swallow," John said, eye brow quirked as he started sliding in and out, finding a smooth slow rhythm that Rodney could follow without protest.

"Well, I don't know, do I? I mean, I can't just ask you, can I? And anyway, it's not like, oh, wait no, don't stop, I think that's it."

"This?" John gave his hips a little twist again, screwing himself in as deep as he could go and sliding out slowly again.

"Yeah, that’s actually starting to feel kind of nice. I can… just angle up a bit, will you? Yes, like that, just there… oh, that's good." Rodney arched up, then pushed himself down into John's lap, pushing his feet against John's shoulders to get enough traction. The intense jolt went straight up his spine and made his hair stand on end. "Yeah, now I'm feeling it… I think this is what everyone talks about, yeah, I can feel that, oh, it's good, you're good, you're very good."

"Thanks," John grinned and took Rodney's cock in one still greasy hand and started stroking it, firm, smooth strokes from base to top, twisting the head of Rodney's cock a little before stroking down again, just the rhythm Rodney liked.

"Oh yeah, that's good, that's really good," Rodney started to burble again, as John found the perfect angle. As Rodney learned his own body, John picked up the knowledge and played upon it and built upon it, never slipping, never making a mistake, never making a wrong move as he ramped up Rodney's pleasure, picking up speed until their flesh slapped together, cold against warm, the wet noise almost drowned out by Rodney's whimpers and moans and babbling commentary on John's performance.

"Is it ironic, Rodney," John panted, "that you're giving up your virginity, your butt virginity, anyway, to a figment of your imagination?"

"Butt virginity? I can't believe you said that… You'd never say anything like that, that was me. I'm putting words in your mouth, aren't I? Stupid words. Anyway, do you think it counts?" Rodney's voice had dropped to a whisper, but he couldn't stop talking.

"Yeah," John said, eyes half closed as he panted and thrust, picking up speed.

"Why not?" Rodney arched into it, groaning as John's hand tightened, "You're perfect. You'll never cheat on me, never demand anything I don't want to give, never leave me… Would you? Unless, I think you might, then you might…" Rodney faded out, wondering if he'd sabotage himself that badly.

"No… unless someone finds a cure for… for whatever this is."

"They won't. We'll keep it quiet. They'll forget all about it… you'll just be my little secret. Mine..." Rodney started to moan softly as John picked up speed. "Mine… mine forever… I can keep you with me, always, never leave you behind, you can't leave me…"

"Yeah…" John panted, "and you can talk romantic crap to me and I won't tease you, either."

Rodney snorted with laughter, distracted from the push and tug and the friction and the wet, and his orgasm took him oddly by surprise when John twisted his hand and his hip and Rodney couldn't hold in a loud whine as his body spasmed down on John's cock, the unexpected pleasure shooting through him, and he pulsed out over John's busy hand.

"And you can make as many embarrassing noises as you want, whiny boy," John said, grinning widely, not missing a beat with his thrusts.

"Yeah, yeah, look, hurry up. I'm over sensitive after I come. Can you come? Come in me?"

"I can do whatever you can imagine. Although your imagination is surprisingly limited," John panted, eyes almost closed, lips pink and moist as his tongue flicked over them.

Rodney wanted to say something about his imagination not being limited, that he had an excellent imagination, in fact, and that he simply preferred his fantasies to be realistic, but it was just too much effort as he was buffeted by John's thrusts, pushed limply up and down on the bed, and he just relaxed into the movements and smiled in contentment as he felt John's orgasm, imagining he could feel the pulse and the cool slide of John's come as he arched and gasped and came deep inside.

John collapsed over him, catching himself on shaking arms before he fell on Rodney's chest, cool and sweaty and hairy, and Rodney wrapped his arms around the shaking body, their breathing evening out together.

Rodney lifted his head to kiss the cool lips near his shoulder. "This is probably crazy. I should probably… something. I don't know. Maybe I'm… betraying John's trust imagining you like this. This is probably wrong in so many ways. It's probably kind of creepy."

"Probably," John snuggled closer, unashamedly letting Rodney take his full weight.

"We'll just… it's our secret," Rodney whispered.

"It's just a head injury, right?" Rodney could feel John's smile against his neck as he helped Rodney rationalise their tryst.

"Yeah… just make sure you never let Carson cure me, though. All right?"

"All right."

Rodney smiled as he drifted in post-coital bliss and kissed those cool lips again, "Yeah, I think I'll keep you."

 ****

 ** ******

Story Notes

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	2. Deleted Scene from Your Cool Lips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Deleted Scene
> 
> [info]millefiori didn't like the idea of other people being able to see Rodney's holo-cinations (ha, I just made up that word, isn't it great?), so I deleted the entire scene of Radak meeting his own double, but I still like the scene, so I'm doing the 'Directors Cut' version and including the scene here. It does really change a lot of what the story feels like, but I agree with her blindly and without thought, so I deleted it from the original.
> 
> I think this changes a lot of the concept of the story, not having this scene in, and it cuts down on the 'Oh no, someone will walk in on them while they're having sex and it'll be so embarrassing!' expectation that readers may have. I would never write that, though. I hate humiliation in stories. So yeah, less expectation of embarrassment when the idea that other people can see the holo-cinations has been downplayed.

START DELETED SCENE (first few paragraphs the same as in story, then it changes.)

The day he returned to work Rodney abandoned the notes Zelenka had left regarding turning the jumper cloak into a shield. It was the kind of thing Rodney could work out in his sleep, and since Zelenka hadn't typed it up into a real report and had written it mostly in Czech, Rodney wasn't that interested in working on it just yet. Not while he still had an unrelenting headache anyway.

Beckett said the headache would fade soon, and had tried to pull Rodney off duty until it did. Rodney, on the other hand, felt he was perfectly capable of working, as long as people were perfectly prepared to listen to him whine about it. So far, just about everyone was. He'd given them all a major scare, although not as much as he'd given himself, and they'd all been happy enough to listen to him regale them with stories of his bravery and ingenious plans to escape. And most importantly they'd just sat with him, Teyla and Sheppard and the rest, taking the time to visit and talk, or just listen to him talk, and once the visits had thinned out he'd whined at Becket to discharge him so he could return to his lab, the hub of the busy busy of Atlantis. Surrounded by people and sound, and well above the ocean. High and dry.

Now he was alone again, and it was a nuisance; he really could use another pair of hands. All the tiny fibres he was trying to put back together needed smaller hands than his own, and the work would go more quickly. Not that he needed anyone else, but it would be useful. Tiny keyboards, tiny fibres, sure, they were space saving, but they were not user friendly.

"Here, pass to me," Zelenka leaned over and Rodney looked up in surprise before passing some of the torn and twisted pieces over.

"I thought you were in the mess?" Zelenka had been avoiding him a little since Rodney's unexpected dunking, although Rodney was definitely not pointing out how the whole thing had been Zelenka's fault in the first place. He was making some effort to trust the others, to honour the memory of the woman he'd left at the bottom of the ocean. Even if she'd just been a product of his concussion.

"Yes, yes, but the food was, er, banos, crap. You missed nothing. So I came back. Pass to me, you can't do this by yourself, let me help."

"I don't need your help," Rodney grumbled. "I can do this perfectly well by myself… but if you have nothing better to do…"

"No, no," Zelenka gave him a twisted look. "Of course you need no one, but it's easier, yes?"

They made juvenile faces at each other and worked quietly for a while, until Rodney felt the need to point out that Zelenka wasn't making much progress and what was the point of him being there if he was only going to distract Rodney from what he had to do anyway, when the door behind them opened and Rodney heard a short sharp scream.

He spun on his chair to see a very shocked looking… Radek Zelenka.

"Zelenka, what are you…" he turned, but the man who'd been working beside him was gone, the fibres he'd been working on abandoned.

Zelenka walked into the room, pointing a finger at the blank space, "I saw… I saw… it was me. There was me. There. Rodney?"

"You saw you?" Rodney put a hand to his head, he felt a little dizzy. Head wound, it had to be the head wound, it was making him dizzy, making him confused. He should go to the infirmary, Carson must have missed something. He stood up, then sat down again - on the floor - holding his head and staring at Zelenka. "I er… so that wasn't you, then?"

"Is what?" Zelenka still pointed at the blank space as he came closer. "Is Atlantis hologram? Is Wraith illusion? Is what?" His voice rose in pitch and Rodney wondered if they were going to have matching panic attacks.

"I think, er, I think it was a hallucination, Radek."

"No, no, I saw! I saw another me there, you were talking to him."

"Yes, but-"

Zelenka was tapping his earpiece, "Dr Weir? Dr Weir? We have a problem, yes. Doppelganger or Wraith ghost, I think. Yes, yes, sounds crazy. Please come to Rodney's lab, I explain there."

Rodney got back onto his stool, and couldn't help but check surreptitiously for the one he realised was another creation of his own mind. And why Zelenka this time? Why not Colonel Carter? Sam might have taken her top off again, even if she was wearing a very matronly bra underneath. He gnawed at his thumbnail as Zelenka twitched nervously, and decided it must have been because he knew it was Zelenka he most needed at that time, not Colonel Carter.

Elizabeth came into the room at a trot, followed by Colonel Sheppard, who already had his hand on his sidearm.

"Oh, stop panicking, you two," Rodney growled. "There's nothing to be scared of. Zelenka's just panicking over nothing."

"Nothing? Nothing!? There was another me, there!" Zelenka pointed at the blank stool. "Rodney was talking to another me! I walked in and there was a me sitting there, working on that!"

Rodney leaned over to look at the work he'd pushed to the phantom Zelenka; there actually had been no work done at all.

"Rodney? Do you have an explanation for this?" Dr Weir patted Zelenka on the shoulder, obviously trying to calm him.

"I, yes, well, when I was in the jumper, at the bottom of the ocean, I did tell Carson, it wasn't a big thing, really, nothing to get all worked up about-"

"Rodney," Weir snapped, getting his attention again.

"I … hallucinated."

"You hallucinated?" Colonel Sheppard repeated, eyebrow raised.

"Yes, I saw… things. A person. Colonel Carter. I just…" Rodney struggled to find a way to put this without sounding utterly crazy. "I talk to myself all the time, as you know, when I work, it helps me work things out, puts things into perspective, and it's difficult to find someone to talk to who can match my intellect anyway, so yeah, under the ocean, I saw Colonel Carter and we worked out things together. I mean, she was just a figment of my imagination, an obvious hallucination, I knew that at the time, it's not like I was seeing things or anything, I mean, I was, yes, seeing things, but not in a crazy way-"

"Rodney, no one's calling you crazy."

"No, well, no, not if Zelenka can see them, too." Rodney waved his hand at Zelenka, looking for a sanity lifeline. "It, I mean, if other people can see it, if I'm projecting… what? What am I projecting? Solid hallucinations?"

"Why me?" Zelenka said nervously, as if Rodney was trying to steal his soul.

"Because I had to get this done and it would have gone faster if you'd been here to help, but look," he waved at the undone work, "You didn't do a damned thing anyway…"

"McKay," the Colonel interrupted. "Are you telling us you can create… holograms? With your mind?"

"Yes, yes, well… I'm not sure I'd call them holograms – those are more of a technical issue. I didn't know anyone else could see them. I mean, that's… unexpected. But if you can see them," he nodded at Zelenka, "then that means I'm not crazy, right? I mean, I knew I wasn't, even though hallucinations don't usually come on that strong. There was this one time, I was in hospital, kicked in the head by a donkey, of all things, which serves me right for trying to help my sister, but I was on these drugs, not morphine, something else, I forget, and I remember asking the nurse, how did they get the roses in the wallpaper to bloom and close again, it was really pretty, and she just gave me more drugs, and when I next woke up… the walls were all just plain white, and that's what a hallucination is usually like, it's not someone you can see and talk to and touch, is it? I've never heard of that, anyway, have you? I suppose Carson might know if there's ever been-"

"Rodney, you're babbling," Sheppard interrupted again. "Calm down. Are you telling us you can touch these hallucinations?"

"I thought it was just… they're just projections of my unconscious mind, right? So… unconsciously, if I touch them, then it's some kind of… placebo affect. I'm convinced I can feel them, too."

"You were … feeling … Colonel Carter?"

"Yes, well, I mean, not like that! She wouldn't do that! I couldn't make her do anything I didn't think she wouldn't already do, nothing inappropriate! It's just that I could feel it if she touched me while we were talking. She was solid."

"And was… er, Holo-Radek also solid?"

"I don't know, I didn’t touch him, I'm not in the habit of feeling up my staff, but he didn't do any of the work I thought he was doing."

"And you didn't realise he wasn't real."

"I, er, no. Not until the real Radek walked in."

"Rodney, that's not good," Elizabeth interjected. "If you're creating… these things, and you can't tell if they are real."

"I'll get him back to Carson, Elizabeth," John said, taking Rodney's arm.

"I'm fine, honestly, it's just… yes, Carson should probably check my head again. MRI, or a cat scan, that's what I need. Oh dear, do you think I'm… bleeding in my brain? Or… is it something to do with the exposure to the Atlantis relics? Oh god, it's cancer, all the radiation, I know it, I've got a tumour in my brain!"

Sheppard gave Rodney's arm a squeeze, "I'm sure it's nothing that serious. Like you said, it's probably something to do with the ancient Technology. The city is riddled with holograms, you've probably plugged yourself into something without realising it."

"Yes, but the holograms in the city, they are obviously holograms. You know, all floaty and ethereal, what I'm seeing… creating… they're solid. They look and sound just like real people. I can touch them and they act like the real people would act."

"Like you think they would act?"

"Yes, but I can't make them do things they wouldn't do. Or that I think they wouldn't do."

"Oh? What did you try to make Samantha Carter do?"

"Nothing! What do you take me for? I wouldn't… Carson!" saved from embarrassment by reaching the infirmary. "I need an MRI! I think I have a tumour!"

**Author's Note:**

> There is a deleted scene for this story... I've put it in as chapter two. Not necessary to read that.
> 
>  
> 
> End Notes:
> 
> Thanks to some folks on my friends list who gave me many cover stories for Snape to use to hide his real reason for taking Lockhart out of St. Mungo's, after Millefiore pointed out he couldn't tell the truth about it (and that I had spelled St. Mungo's several different ways, none of them correctly). And spelled Millefiore incorrectly. In fact that line about 'I love your spelling… you're so creative!' came from something one of my friends at University once said to me. She was very sweet. Write what you know. I know just how many e's are in ridiculous. Seven!
> 
>  
> 
> **If you liked it, leave a comment!**
> 
> Follow me on iibnf.livejournal.com
> 
> Read more of my stories on my own website at http://www.ozemail.com.au/~brussell


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